Breathe Again: A Love Story Page 16

  Anita had hung up the Reem Acra dress in the door to the spare closet, and I spent a few seconds admiring it before putting it on. I really hoped I could do it justice. Anita had also chosen a pair of Jimmy Choo champagne sandals, with a heel that even I considered a bit too high, and a beautiful pearled clutch.

  It took Anita and three of her assistants to get me into the dress, and I noticed my hands were shaking slightly when I went to strap the sandals onto my feet. I stood, and turned slowly in the direction of the mirror.

  The woman that I saw in front of me couldn’t possibly have been me. My makeup was the same style, but flawless. My standard red lip plumped with gloss, and my eyelashes a million miles long. The dress fit me like a glove, and even the heels were perfect; I didn’t feel too short anymore. Instead, I felt glamorous, and definitely beautiful. Almost like I would actually fit in on that red carpet.

  I was too busy studying the stunning job Anita did with my hair to notice Jackson come up from behind me.

  “I have no words,” he said quietly, looking over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror. He was as handsome as ever as well, of course, and I found my gaze drawn from myself, to the man standing behind me. “I still can’t believe you’re mine,” Jackson said, his gaze reflected off the mirror and onto my own.

  “And I can’t believe you’re mine,” I said, turning to him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but I was scared that I would mess up Anita’s creation. He didn’t seem to mind, however, and pulled me into his embrace. I had to fight the urge to put my cheek against his chest. We were closer in height now, because of my heels, but I still had to tilt my head up so that I could look into his eyes.

  “Maybe that means we’re perfect for each other then,” Jackson said, smiling down at me. I felt myself flush in happiness. Could life truly be any better? “Are you ready for this?”

  And then, just like that, I realized that yes. It really could be better.

  I felt my heart stutter in my chest, just like it had for the past three days every time I thought of what I was about to do. And every time I did, I found myself counting off all the reasons why I should change my mind.

  If a relationship could be measured by the ability to read your partner, Jackson and I really were perfect for each other, because he always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

  “Don’t answer that,” he said as soon as he noticed my smile falter. I couldn’t hide anything from him.

  “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Is it time to go?” I knew my voice was small, but at least I was asking.

  Jackson nodded. “Let’s do this Mellie Rose.”

  I nodded my own head once, then went to grab my bag from Anita. Her smile stretched all the way across her face, something I knew wasn’t too common for her.

  She pulled me into a hug. “You’re going to be absolutely wonderful Mellie. Just remember to keep close to Jackson, and stand up straight. Your lipstick is in your bag, so just make sure you check it every once in a while.” She started going over a few of the other things that we’d been talking about for the week prior; where to look, how to keep my hands while we were being interviewed, how to stand in my heels.

  Anita was still talking when Jackson tugged on my hand, pulling me away from her and out of the bedroom door. I had to pause right before we stepped out the front door to take another breath, but we were in the elevator and whisked into the waiting limo in no time at all.

  Chapter 23

  The drive from Jackson’s building to Grauman’s Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard felt like it took about thirty seconds, when in reality we were running late from traffic. I didn’t have nearly enough time to compose myself, and I found myself dangerously close to hyperventilating when we turned onto Highland Avenue. Jackson had his hand in mine the entire time, stroking my fingers with his and whispering words that were meant to comfort me in my ear. I barely heard any of it, too aware of the fans lining the streets, trying to get a glimpse of my ridiculously famous boyfriend.

  What was I thinking?

  The limo pulled to a stop in front of the theater. I clutched Jackson's hand as we waited for someone to come open our door and I closed my eyes to try and slow my heart rate down. I also didn’t want to look outside until the last possible moment.

  “Okay baby, let’s do this.” I vaguely heard Jackson’s voice; it sounded so far away. He pressed a kiss to my temple, and the door was opened.

  I felt Jackson shit on the seat next to me, and then he was gone. The noise outside the car was deafening, and I resisted the urge to cover my ears. It was go time. I knew that he was waiting for me outside the limo, but I couldn’t move. I was stuck to my seat, my legs frozen as I listened to the screams of hundreds of girls yelling Jackson’s name. Nobody knew I was going to be there; I could have easily just stayed inside, let Jackson go out and do his thing by himself like he always did. They didn’t have to know that he had a girlfriend still sitting inside, on the edge of a panic attack.

  He was still there, waiting for me. I could feel it, and I risked opening my eyes just a millimeter. If anyone, or anything, could actually get me to actually move, it would have been Jackson. The flashbulbs immediately blinded me, going off a thousand times per second, but they were still on the outside of the car. Nobody knew that I was still in here; nobody knew that there was anybody in here.

  But Jackson did. I remembered seeing photos of him on the red carpet, at award shows and parties and premieres. He was the epitome of cool and collected, as if being the center of attention was the most natural thing in the world. I, on the other hand, spent my days in an isolated kitchen surrounded by flour and sugar and butter. There were days where I saw nobody at all, just my reflection in the mirror.

  I tried to remember those words that Jackson whispered into my ear while riding to the theater, but they were drowned out by the shrieks of every other person in the world. I couldn’t do this.

  They still couldn’t see me. The door to the limo was open, but Jackson was blocking the view inside with his body. I couldn’t see much beyond him, just the crowds through the tinted windows. But he was still there. He hadn’t grown tired of my panic or uncertainty yet. I’d told him countless times throughout the past several days how I couldn’t do it, how I wasn’t the right person for this life. How I wasn’t the right person for him, but he said the same thing every. single. time.

  “You are my everything, Mellie Rose. I would give you the world, if I could.”

  I closed my eyes, once again, and blocked out the noise from beyond the confines of the limousine. All I could hear was Jackson’s voice, telling me that I was his everything. That he would give me the world, that he would protect me until the end of time.

  When I opened my eyes, all I saw was him. To everyone outside of this car, he was perfect. He was Jackson Traver, the sexiest man alive, and the embodiment of everything they could ever want in the world.

  To me, Jackson was still perfect. He really was the sexiest man alive, and the embodiment of everything I could ever want in the world, but he was so much more to me than that.

  He was my hero, my protector and my partner. He didn’t just fulfill some idealistic fantasy that I fell asleep to at night. He wasn’t just another celebrity that could come and go in my dreams as he pleased. He played the prince in my daydreams not because I saw him on the big screen, but because of the way he loved me in real life.

  And he was there, with his hand held out to me. There was no annoyance on his face because of my indecision at that moment, just encouragement.

  As soon as I placed my hand in his, the noise vanished. It was silent, like just touching him protected me from everything on the outside. He tugged on my hand gently, and I found myself floating across the seat. There had been dozens of fears about this night that had played through my head over the past few days, including the very real possibility that I would stumble out of the limo, and thus rendering my entrance into this world as ungraceful
and awkward as I felt.

  It didn’t happen. I set one foot out of the limo, and then the other. I didn’t have to worry about keeping myself upright after that; Jackson made sure I did for me. He held onto me, as if he needed to feel me there next to him just as much as I needed him there next to me.

  We stepped onto that red carpet, and I knew everyone was staring at us. I felt my breathing hitch, but then Jackson slipped his arm around my waist and I was okay. He leaned down, and whispered into my ear.

  “I love you.”

  I wasn’t completely oblivious to our surroundings. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of fans lining the rails beyond the red carpet, yelling Jackson’s name and telling him that they loved him. But he was there, telling me that he loved me.

  Anita had told me to smile; we’d even practiced the type of smile I would wear while on the red carpet, but I didn’t need to concentrate on it. I felt like I was on cloud nine, not because I was dating the world’s most exciting and alluring actor, but because my perfect person had chosen me as well. This just happened to be his life, and now it was my life too.

  Jackson had four interviews arranged for his trip down the red carpet, and none of them knew that he was bringing someone along. We did that on purpose, knowing it would catch them off guard. I wanted to be an authentic version of myself, and I couldn’t do that if everything was pre-scripted.

  The first interviewer didn’t even acknowledge me. To be fair, I didn’t recognize him either, and he was so nervous when speaking with Jackson, that I had to assume he was probably new at this. He asked Jackson all of the standard questions about the movie, and almost none about his personal life. I knew that wasn’t normal; I’d watched enough entertainment television to know that the media could almost care less about someone’s work if there was a bigger story involved.

  Jackson’s publicist, Sharon MacDonald, moved us along not even two minutes after the interview had begun. We paused every few steps so that Jackson could wave at the crowd, but he didn’t move from my side to sign autographs or take photos with anyone. He’d promised me that he wouldn’t, that he would be touching me all night long, and I believed him. Part of me felt bad that his fans had come all this way, and they wouldn’t be meeting him personally tonight, but I didn’t dwell on it for long. I knew that even though I felt alright at the moment, my composure could easily crumble with so much as a light breeze.

  I immediately recognized the second correspondent that we stopped at for an interview. Genevieve Derichs was well known both inside and outside the industry, a personality herself. She’d even had her own show on the entertainment channel, which chronicled her infertility, and her journey to adopt. She was a big deal, and judging by the look on her face when Jackson and I approached her, she knew what a big deal we were too.

  “Well, if it isn’t the star of the night. And how are you doing Jackson Traver?” she said, her eyes sparkling. She really was gorgeous, and if I hadn’t known that she was happily married with an infant daughter they’d recently adopted from the Philippines, I would have been a little jealous at the way she was eyeing Jackson right then.

  “I’m great,” Jackson said, flashing the camera his multi-million dollar smile. I just stood there, watching them both as she asked the standard questions about the movie. And then, as if I just suddenly appeared out of nowhere, she noticed me.

  “You, my dear,” she said, turning her body just slightly so that she was facing me directly, “look absolutely stunning. Jackson, where have you been hiding this gorgeous woman? We all know you aren’t the type to bring just anyone with you to these things, so I have a feeling you’re keeping a secret from all of us.” She looked at him knowingly, but he wasn’t watching her or the camera any more. I turned to look up at him, wondering if I was supposed to say something or if he wasn’t paying attention, but he was staring down at me.

  “This,” he said, his voice so soft that I wasn’t sure the microphone would catch it, “is my Mellie Rose. You’re right, I have been keeping a secret from all of you.”

  And there it was. I knew Genevieve heard it by the way she sighed after he said my name, which meant that the microphone caught it too. The world knew my name.

  “Mellie Rose,” she said, eyeing me with what I could only assume was a morbid curiosity, “what a pretty name. Like I said before, you look just beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice small.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “And you, Jackson, look as handsome as ever. Mellie Rose is a lucky lady.”

  I could feel myself flush under the hot lights, though I hoped nobody would notice.

  “No,” he said, his eyes still on me. “I’m the lucky one.”

  After a few more questions, Sharon interrupted us so we could stay on schedule. We said our goodbyes, and Genevieve even gave me a hug before we moved on. The other two interviews were similar to Genevieve’s, but I was glad she was the first. She didn’t make me feel like I was just on display for the world to see; she actually cared enough to ask me how I was doing. There was no menace in her voice, just a benign interest, as if she knew exactly what it meant that Jackson brought me with him.

  I was kind of exhausted when we finally got to the end of the red carpet. We’d only been standing for about a half an hour, but there had been a lot of posing and smiling and waving to fans. I didn’t do the waving, of course, but I was tired for Jackson.

  “You did it,” Jackson whispered to me after we disappeared through the doors to the theater. I could still hear the yells of the fans outside as another star arrived, but I immediately felt my guard go down when I realized they couldn’t see us anymore.

  “I did,” I said, though I wasn’t quite sure I knew it just yet. Jackson stopped walking, forcing me to stop with him since he was holding my hand, and pulled me close to him.

  “I’m proud of you Mellie. I knew you had it in you.”

  I couldn’t help my shy smile. I had been so nervous for the past week, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d anticipated. Sure, it was nerve-wracking, but I survived without falling or otherwise making an idiot of myself.

  Suddenly, I felt giddy. I had done it, and the world knew who I was. It was a humbling thought, one that made me so incredibly grateful for the man standing in front of me. Before I knew what I was doing, I had my arms around his neck and my lips on his.

  Jackson just chuckled softly under his breath, but indulged me in my kiss. It was as if the adrenaline just started pumping through my veins, a delayed response to the excited that had occurred just a few moments before.

  I was vaguely aware of the few people wandering around us, but none seemed to notice. We were tucked back in a quiet corner, so I let myself assault his mouth for a few more seconds, until Lucy’s voice range rang out.

  “Seriously guys?” she said, though her voice was nothing but sweet and excited. We were still wrapped up in each other, but she just ran up to us and wiggled her way in between Jackson and I, so we were suddenly a Lucy sandwich.

  “It’s nice to see you too Lucy,” I said, laughing. She was twenty-one years old, but it really felt like she was five sometimes.

  “I missed you after you left on Saturday. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you, after I vented to you for who knows how long. You’re too sweet miss Mellie. I know why Jackson looooooves you.” She pulled away from the both of us so she could give Jackson googly eyes while she said it. “Oh! And I have someone I want you to meet.”

  She wiggled back out from in between us, and pulled over someone that I hadn’t noticed was standing out of our way. I immediately recognized him as Jude Cross, Lucy’s apparent love interest (despite our warnings against it).

  “Jackson and Mellie, this is Jude. Jude, these are my besties Jackson and Mellie.” She motioned in between us quickly, but we were left to finish making our introductions when Lucy went off to chase one of the servers carrying a tray of champagne. I almost wanted to run after her, but I knew it would be rude.r />
  “Hi Jude, it’s lovely to meet you,” I said, turning my attention back on the rock star now standing in front of us.

  “You too,” he said, his crooked smile admittedly charming. “Lucy’s told me quite a bit about you two.”

  “Did she now?” I asked. I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to say about that; dinner with Jackson and the cast had only been a few days prior, which obviously meant that they’d spent quite a bit of time together since.

  I risked a glance up at Jackson, who was not amused by Lucy’s choice of date, apparently. He stared at Jude with hard eyes, his lips in a thin line.

  “Yeah, she says you two are like family to her. I think it’s sweet and all, since, you know, she doesn’t really have anyone out here.” I thought about it for a moment; I knew that Jackson had talked to Lucy about me before Saturday, but we’d still only met once. Obviously I’d made an impact on her, though I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it just yet. I had a feeling Lucy needed a little bit more than what I could offer her.

  I nodded, and turned to Jackson. “We should probably find our seats, don’t you think?” I asked him, and reached up so that I could wipe a smudge of my red lipstick from his lips. I saw Jude smirk from the corner of my eye, and Jackson’s scowl just get bigger. It made me laugh. “Actually, on second thought, let’s find the bar first?”

  Both men agreed at that, and we set off to find the alcohol, and Lucy, who was probably with it.

  I ordered a glass of champagne and Jackson got a whiskey on the rocks before we made our way into the theater to find our seats. Jackson was the star of the movie, which obviously meant that we had the best seats in the house, and we headed inside right before everything began. Jackson had given me a little run-through of what to expect during the actual premiere, and it all seemed pretty straightforward, actually. The cast was introduced, and then the key members of the production staff, then the producer and director last. Right after that, the movie began.